


you ask me what i'm thinking about (i'll tell you that i'm thinking about whatever you're thinking about)

by thedreamsteam



Series: the dream team fics [11]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:13:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26670454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedreamsteam/pseuds/thedreamsteam
Summary: Dream wasn’t used to living alone.He had been alone for the past two years, only him and his cat, but he’d had to go somewhere recently, and Patches was still at a family members house, safe. So it was only him, and as he coughed and sneezed, it kept bugging his mind, staying.or, Dream is living alone and gets the worst luck, but Wilbur has a trick up his sleeve
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot
Series: the dream team fics [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913893
Comments: 10
Kudos: 617





	you ask me what i'm thinking about (i'll tell you that i'm thinking about whatever you're thinking about)

**Author's Note:**

> yall get to thank fatima for this i was like "is it unreasonable from someone to fly out on impulse for their best friend" and she said "no do it" lmao thank u ily
> 
> this was written nearly entirely in the notes app on my phone lol
> 
> title from daddy issues by the the neighbourhood

Dream wasn’t used to living alone. 

He had been alone for the past two years, only him and his cat, but he’d had to go somewhere recently, and Patches was still at a family members house, safe. So it was only him, and as he coughed and sneezed, it kept bugging his mind, staying.

He hadn’t gotten sick the entire time he’d been living alone, but he guessed traveling could do that to you. Whenever he had been a kid, every time him and his family had traveled somewhere, he had always gotten sick the moment they were home, nearly falling over from the coughs wracking his frame.

This time was no different, except nobody was around and it was just him and his phone, staying in front of the toilet.

“Fuck.” He mutters, leaning back after yet another moment of him vomiting. He was tired, and he knew he should get up and get some food in his stomach so he won’t be throwing up nothing, but his body doesn’t want to work with him, and so he stays.

His phone rings after a few minutes of him sitting there, and he absentmindedly answers it, only registering what he did when Tommy’s cheery voice sings out, the noises of Wilbur’s grumbling behind him.

“Dream, my man! I haven’t talked to you in what feels like forever-“ The boy starts, before being interrupted by Wilbur, the man’s voice rising over.

“Tommy, you streamed with him like 3 days ago!” He exclaims, and Dream can bet that he’s waving his arms around.

“Shut it! Anyways, as I was saying before I was  _ rudely _ interrupted, I haven’t talked to you in what feels like forever so I decided that I should give a lil ring and see what’s going on!”

Dream smiles at that, listening as Wilbur and Tommy argue in the background. It distracts him, for a little bit, but he’s only barely started to say he’s sick when he gets the feeling in his stomach. He curses, unceremoniously dropping his phone on the ground, hearing it make a little crack noise, hearing Wilbur and Tommy making noises of worry before he throws up again, his stomach hurting even worse than before.

It takes a minute or two for his stomach to decide to finish, and he gasps and he lays on the floor, the cool tile soothing against his face.

“Dream?” He hears faintly, and his hand scrabbles out for his phone, finally grabbing it when he nearly pops his arm out reaching. When he brings it back, he realizes it’s a FaceTime call, and he guesses that he had been too distracted to even notice what he was swiping right on. “Are you okay?”

He thanks whatever divine being there is that he doesn’t have anything left around his mouth for once, and he shrugs, looking down at his lap, deciding that was a better place to look than the phone.

“Do you have medicine? Covers? Blankets? Food?” He hears Wilbur ask, suddenly speaking softly, and he nods to all of them, trying to reassure him that he does, in fact, have everything. “Can you get up from the ground, please? Or else I’m gonna have to catch a flight and come and take care of you myself.”

A tear falls, then, and he doesn’t even realize that he’s crying until he drops his phone and shoves his hands against his face, trying to hide his crying before it’s too late. Before he gets noticed.

He’s too late, though.

“Dream?” Tommy asks, and he shakes his head, trying to refuse to talk, but the concern in their voices just makes him feel even worse. “How long have you been living alone?” 

He sniffles, slowly bringing his hands away from his face as he grabs his phone and ends the call.

He feels horrible the moment he does it, but he feels a little bit better, and that’s all he tries to focus on as he trudges into the kitchen to get a little bit of food.

-

They haven’t contacted him lately. No one has, really.

It’d been a day or two, and he had finally tweeted the previous day saying he was sick and wouldn’t be able to stream or film any videos for a little bit because of it, and mostly, everyone had been supportive. Sap had immediately told him to get better or else he would come and beat the sickness out of him, and he had read that message and laughed himself into a coughing fit. George had sent a message telling him to get better as well, although it was less aggressive and more kindly (even though the two messages both meant the same thing).

Still, nothing from Wilbur or Tommy.

A package arrives the next day, and when he opens it, not expecting much, it’s full of the fluffiest clothes and blankets he thinks he’s ever felt, alongside candy and a little note on a piece of notebook paper. It’s sweet, and ok maybe he cries reading it, but the only evidence of that fact are the tears that dripped into his clothes, and that evidence will be gone soon enough.

He texts Tommy soon after, thanking him, and Tommy just simply replies with a smile, which is very much a Not-Tommyinnit thing, but he just brushes it off on the fact that he’s sick and could be thinking different, and starts to walk away when there’s a knock on the door.

He sighs, shivering in his t-shirt as he turns back around, opening the door without even bothering to peep through the hole.

“Do you know how hard it is to find someone in a place that you’ve never even been to before?”

His mouth drops at the sight in front of him, an unexpected surprise. Wilbur’s standing outside of his door, looking unfairly attractive in just a hoodie and sweatpants, his beanie covering up most of his hair. A small suitcase is standing beside him, a bag in his other hand, and Dream doesn’t even know how to react.

He stutters, though, telling him to come in, and he nearly forgets the fact that he’s sick until he starts coughing as they walk towards the kitchen, Wilbur looking at him in concern. Dream rests on the counter, his arms keeping himself up as it feels like he coughs his entire chest out, and he’s sure it sounds just like that as well, probably worse. It hurts, and he’s thankful when Wilbur hands him a water bottle, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, all of the energy leaving him suddenly. He nearly stumbles as he tries to walk, but Wilbur is there quickly, holding on to him and steadying him as they walk in the near darkness of his apartment.

They enter his room, and Wilbur guides him to his bed, as if he’s worried Dream will fall over the moment he lets go. He won’t, because he’s not a baby, but it still happens like that. 

He slumps in his bed, too tired to even change into the pajamas that Tommy sent, and he sighs, an arm curling around his stomach. It still hurts, slightly, but he feels better now that he’s eaten some food.

“I’m gonna run and get some medicine, alright?” Wilbur asks, and he nods.

“Ok.” He says, because what else can he say? “If you want to, my keys are on the kitchen counter.” He barely manages to hold back the yawn until after he’s done, only letting it out once he’s through.

“Thanks.” Wilbur says, and even with his eyes closed Dream can hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re welcome.” He barely manages before he finally starts to slip off, his arms still wrapped around his stomach. He feels his blanket being pulled up around him, and he smiles, wondering how he got someone so damn nice as a friend. (Could he call him a best friend? Is it too soon? Or is he worrying over nothing?)

He falls asleep in the sounds of Wilbur walking down the hall, and he’s asleep before Wilbur even gets out of the place.

-

As Wilbur drives to the store, listening to the directions coming onto his phone, he can’t help but let a smile come over his face as he taps the steering wheel along to the beat of the music.

He finds the medicine once he gets inside easily, and he’s back at the apartment soon enough, the heat of the sun forcing him to move faster. He gets inside soon enough though, but coming in this time, with no one to welcome him in and no one to distract him with their sickness, he realizes just how lonely Dream must be.

The living room is nearly a mess, nearly, only because if Dream had someone else living with him and had everything for two people, it would be a mess. But it’s just a few things in the floor, and picks them up for Dream, settling them back in their places. A picture frame’s in the floor, and he can’t help but smile when he picks it up. It’s of Dream and Sap, and he guesses it’s from when they first met, because they’re both smiling wide and they look so  _ happy _ . He puts it back on the table, and walks to the kitchen, sorting through everything he bought.

It’s not a lot, but it’s enough (especially since Wilbur only realized like a hour ago that he literally didn’t bring clothes suited for this weather).

When he finally finishes going through the items and changing into a softer outfit, Dream’s waken up, and he doesn’t know if it’s because of the fact that he’s sick or because he’s hungry, but Wilbur doesn’t question it. The tall man sits at the kitchen counter as Wilbur pulls out a can of chicken noodle soup, resting his head in his hands as he leans forward, watching Wilbur sleepily.

“Where are your bowls?” He asks softly, opening the can as he waits.

“Cabinet beside the stove.” Dream replies, voice even deeper from sleep.

Wilbur nods, finding them easily, and soon enough they’re quiet again, the only sound in the kitchen being from the microwave. As he waits, he can see Dream slowly falling asleep again, until the beeping comes out loud, and he’s blinking awake again. Wilbur waits a few moments, and pulls out the bowl, careful with it. He sets it down in front of Dream, leaving to go grab something.

When he gets back, the bowl is nearly empty, and when it’s finally gone, he goes to wash the bowl while Dream moves to the couch, sitting down. He’s done soon enough, and when he gets back over, Dream scoots over wordlessly, until Wilbur has enough room. He rests his head on his shoulder the moment he’s sat down though, relaxing.

_ Cheeky bastard _ , Wilbur thinks. He doesn’t voice this thought, though, instead asking the younger man if he wants to watch a movie.

“Whatever you wanna do.” He mumbles against his shoulder, and Wilbur has a feeling that he’s going to be asleep before he can even find a movie, but he doesn’t say anything.

And he’s right, of course. He’s only just managed to get to Netflix before he feels the heaviness on his shoulder, and he smiles, quietly turning the tv down. He knows he won’t be able to get up without waking Dream, so he settles back, pulling out his phone, and an idea comes to mind. It’s stupid, but he does it anyways, holding out the phone and taking a quick selfie of the sleeping man and him. He sends it off to the three boys, and waits.

[5:36 pm]

George: WHAT

George: When did you leave Wilbur what the fuck

Wilbur: this morning >:)

George: [link to bruh video]

Wilbur: STOP

[5:43 pm]

Sapnap: BROOOO

Sapnap: I was about to secretly visit him dude what do you steal my plans

Wilbur: I mean you could come still and take care of this sick boy

Sapnap: done and done 3 days

Wilbur: LMAO

Wilbur: screenshot your payment and then i’ll believe you

Sapnap: stop calling me out tf

Sapnap: im visiting in a month shut up

Wilbur: i didnt say anything??

[5:59 pm]

Tommy: LMAOOOO

Tommy: why does he look nice

Tommy: ew

Wilbur: because hes sleeping??

Wilbur: Tommy are you saying you have a crush on this man

Tommy: Wilbur all I am saying is that he doesnt look like a bitch for once

Tommy: dont put words in my mouth

Tommy: bitch

He laughs quietly, careful to not wake up the man asleep on his shoulder. And though he takes a while, longer than Dream, he falls asleep soon enough, the two of them resting on each other. Soon, all that’s heard in the room is the quiet sound of the tv, as the two men snore. Soon after that, all that’s heard is a slight coughing from Wilbur, and a sheepish apology from Dream as the boys laugh, one nearly choking.

All in all, Wilbur can confidently say he doesn’t regret coming, and Dream can say he’s definitely never had a better time while being sick.

**Author's Note:**

> remembered as i was going thru right now that i couldve called him will BUT its too late now
> 
> tumblr is still @thedreamsteam oops


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